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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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Even the Privileged #poetry #freeverse #sadpoetry

They wear sunlight like tailored clothes,
walk into rooms where doors already open,
names polished smooth by legacy and luck.
People point and whisper,
“They have everything.”

But no one hears
the silence that follows them home.

No one sees the way
a chandelier can light a mansion
and still leave corners dark.

Even the privileged
have nights that taste like loneliness.
Tears that fall quietly
onto expensive pillows,
grief hidden behind practiced smiles
and family portraits framed in gold.

Money can soften storms,
but it cannot teach the heart
how to survive thunder.

Some inherit comfort
but not affection.
Some inherit status
but not peace.
Some grow up surrounded by abundance
yet starve for understanding.

And pain,
pain is strange that way.
It does not ask for bank statements
before entering a soul.

So the wealthy son
still mourns his father’s absence.
The admired woman
still questions her worth in mirrors.
The successful man
still sits awake at 2 a.m.
wondering why achievement
feels so empty.

We envy windows
without knowing
what cries behind the curtains.

Because sorrow wears every colour.
It lives in crowded cities
and gated homes alike.
And even those standing highest
sometimes carry
the heaviest invisible rain.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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